


Love Is A Battlefield

by Wamparampa



Category: One Direction
Genre: 1968, Homophobia, It's kind of cheesy to be honest, M/M, Stonewall Riots, i don't know how to tag, larry stylinson - Freeform, set in an unfluffy situation, this is very fluffy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-02
Updated: 2016-05-02
Packaged: 2018-06-05 21:16:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6723898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wamparampa/pseuds/Wamparampa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's a warm night in June 1968 when Harry and Louis meet at The Stonewall Inn. Riots and love is in the air</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love Is A Battlefield

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, this is the first and only fic I will ever write as I am in no way a writer, but I felt this story needed to be written. If anyone else, with actual skills wants to take it on, please do!
> 
> You need to keep in mind that it’s set in a completely different time, you usually couldn't even find a job if you were openly gay at least no state jobs. The gay community was constantly harassed by police and society and on top of that the community itself was poorly organized. The language may be offensive at times, so a little heads up for that.
> 
> This is clearly not exactly what happened at The Stonewall those nights in June, let’s call it my homage to the heros that fought for me and so many others. If you’re interested in LGBTQA history, please look into it. It’s truly fascinating. If not, just read for the fluff.  
> Names are made up and so are The Sisters. There's really no way of knowing what the drag queens, who played a big role in the riots, identified as so that one is on me. 
> 
> The title is Pat Benatars lovely Love Is A Battlefield
> 
> "We are strong  
> No one can tell us we're wrong  
> Searching our hearts for so long  
> Both of us knowing  
> Love is a battlefield"
> 
> Big thanks to Dee (Fuzzypurplestuff http://fuzzypurplestuff.tumblr.com) for encouraging me to finish this and being my test audience as well as a beta. I like you a lot.  
> Thanks also to shiningdistraction (http://shiningdistraction.tumblr.com) and tositandadmire (http://tositandadmire.tumblr.com) for excellent beta working! It was an incredible experience to see the fic through all of your eyes.

**June 28, 1969**

Louis frowns at his watered-down drink. The Stonewall Inn isn't his usual hang out, but he is a gay man in the mood for music and sweaty bodies and frankly, there's no better place for it in New York. He just wants to get a bit of a buzz going before he gets to the dancing part but with this nearly alcohol-free drink in his hands, it looks like the buzz will have to wait too.

Just as he’s contemplating giving up on the drink altogether, the music abruptly turns off and he hears a loud crash followed by someone screaming “PIGS!”. It only takes him a second to realize what is happening and with a sigh, he and every other patron start digging for ID's. Any gay man knows that if New York's “finest” comes knocking, you’d better open with a smile and give the right answers. Even then there are no guarantees of course, anyone of these men and women could easily end up in a prison cell before the night is over. Louis has been lucky so far but he’s knows he’s not nearly careful enough to be safe. He just didn't expect his first bust to be here of all places; the mafia pays a pretty hefty sum to the police for this _not_ to happen. 

He feels himself tense up along with the other guests as more and more policemen enter the grimy and dark club. They are pushing people around and sending those with ID's matching their appearance out to the street while others are hauled into the waiting police cars. He tries to keep his head down and not to fidget but he's also trying to find his friend Bibi among the frantically moving throng of bodies. The dim light makes it difficult to distinguish anyone but Bibi has a tendency to stand out. She's a looker (if you're into the feminine thing) at 6’4, with her hair artfully kept up in her trademark floral scarf, a bit of lipstick and a shirt tied around her waist, but she also has an ID with the name Leopold Brown. Relief fills him as he spots her with her ‘sisters’. Catching his eye she throws him a reassuring wink she turns to her group, all wearing similar outfits. They can easily go about their regular lives being Steve and John, but as soon as they step into a secure location, they show their true selves, and it's a fabulous sight in Louis’ humble opinion. The police may be hard on gays, but it's nothing compared to how men dressing as women are treated. 

People are being kicked out at a steady pace, but the police keep it interesting by varying the method used - sometimes violently and sometimes just a shove towards the door often followed by an insult or two. Louis considers himself a confident man who knows his rights, but the harsh words and violence make him feel insignificant. He’s standing still with his eyes fixed on the dirty floor as he tries and fails to slow his rapidly beating heart when he feels, more than sees, someone come up to his spot. He chances glancing to his side, and what catches his eye makes his heart pick up speed even more. Kind, green eyes carefully and discreetly peering slightly down at him. 

“Hey, you look kind of scared, so I thought I come over and keep you company. I’m Harry” the stranger says in a hushed voice. 

“And you're not scared?” Louis questions. “I'm Louis by the way” he doesn't really understand why he's whispering or being borderline rude but the tension in the room feels dangerous and he can’t even bother to pretend to be nonchalant about it. Not even to pretty men. 

“Yeah, I´m scared, but I also spent some time on the streets, so it’s not my first raid. Or rodeo, isn't that what they say?” Harry answers, voice tinged with something close to defiance.

Louis scans over to the other side of the club's tiny dance floor where The Sisters who haven’t been dragged out yet are doing runwayesque walks and poses while waiting their turn. The scene is quite absurd in its contrast to the rough police and not exactly what he had thought his first encounter with the police would be. “Is it usually like this then? I mean, if you’re sooo used to it?” 

“Well, I’m not _that_ much of an expert, but I’d go with no. Not in this place anyways." 

Louis feels sweat trickling down his back. He may seem fun and flirty in social situations, and usually he would enjoy the little show The Sisters are putting on, but he like to be in control and this is as far away from control as you can get. 

They don't get further than that because just as Louis is going to answer, a burly policeman comes and stands in front of them. 

“So, you homophiles on a date?” He asks, disdain clear in his voice.

They both shake their bowed-down heads and silently hands over their ID's. Louis wishes that he felt strong enough to speak up, to banter, or to be a little cheeky and not just leave himself at the mercy of this brute, but he can't. The words are stuck in his throat and he really just wants this over with.

“Alright, get out of here! We’ve got a lot worse to take care of tonight than you,” the cop shoots his chin to Louis “and your little girlfriend” he finishes mockingly.

Louis turns to Harry in relief, grabbing his elbow to steer him out on the street. “Let´s get out of here, Curls, before they change their minds.” 

….

 

They both release a long held breath as they quickly exit the club, stepping out into the warm June night, tightly pressed together. 

“What’s happening?” Harry asks as soon as their feet hit the pavement, while looking around a little confused.

Expecting to be faced with police cars and no other sign of what is going on in The Stonewall, Harry is clearly as taken aback as Louis by the scene playing out on the street. Sure, there are plenty of police cars parked all over, but there are also people milling about, carefully watching the ongoing raid. It seems that the patrons who has been thrown out of the club have just stayed in the streets, observing what's happening and not, as usual, snuck away shamefully into night.

“I have no idea. I thought you were the expert here.” Louis answers, following Harry's gaze to the restless crowd. He’s trying to keep the comment light and playful, but he can see on Harry’s face that he’s probably not succeeding. 

“Yeah, maybe, but this is a new one, even for a veteran like me.” There's a sense of wonder coloring Harry's voice that makes him sound a lot less tightlipped then he was in the club. It even sounds like Harry might be smiling, so Louis turns to look up at the other man. Sure enough, there's just a hint of a grin on Harry’s lips and Louis finds it mesmerizing.

Turning his focus back to the street, Louis takes in the slightly bizarre scene that's playing out, with the silent crowd watching intently as people are being dragged into the waiting police cars. The air feels tinged with a strange mix of contained excitement and hostility that he can’t quite understand.  
The aggressive sounds of policemen shouting echo between the buildings but on occasion people start hollering as a Sister does a fierce pose or moves a bit risqué while they're being “escorted” to the always hungry police cars. Every cheer feel like a tiny rebellion that makes the tension grow thicker.

"This won't end well, will it?" Louis says, voice more relaxed than he feels. 

"I don't know, but I kind of want to see what's going to happen. This does feel different and scary, but the good kind of scary, you know? The kind of scary you don't want to miss." Harry is clearly caught up in what's happening. "Or maybe it feels more important than scary."

Louis doesn't really know. Police and being gay are never a good combination in his experience, but he can't really find it in him to let them scare him away either. But he’s at least willing to try and channel Harry’s fascination "Ok, Curls, let's hang around and see what the big bad wolves can come up with. I need to keep a track on Bibi anyway, but could you maybe stick around for a little while?"

As if to prove a point Harry takes Louis' hand. "Definitely, I'm a lot tougher than I look, I'll protect you."

"Didn’t say I needed protecting." Louis retorts, but he doesn’t let go of Harry's hand. 

The police seems to be targeting mainly lesbians and transgenders tonight as Louis can mostly spot other men in the street with him. Just as he starts to feel himself relax even more, he hears Harry gasp, after a quick glance up, he follows Harry's gaze and sees a woman being dragged out of the club. 

“What happened?” He asks Harry urgently.

“He… he hit her!” Harry's voice kind voice is thick with both fear and anger. “He hit her head! Look, she’s bleeding!”

Louis can almost feel the whole crowd going still. Gone is the almost humorous mood that has grown over the last couple of minutes due to The Sisters spectacle. It's like the group has become one entity, holding its breath, waiting and gearing up for whatever is to come. 

The bleeding woman is visibly wobbling on her feet but still puts up a fight as the police try to force her into a police car. They finally succeed, with the crowd still in their frozen state, but just before the car door slams shut, she turns to the look at the unmoving bystanders and screams “Why don’t you guys do something?!” 

And that's all it takes. Just one plea, one call for help and the breath comes rushing out of hundreds of lungs and the groupe springs to action fueled by all those times being scared and treated badly. The first steps are hesitant but someone close to Louis picks up a bottle and lobs it at the closest police car as a war cry fills the New York night, and the hunted become the hunters. Bottles, coins, even cobblestones are thrown at the shocked policemen. People are screaming and hurling whatever they can get their hands on. The police aren't backing away yet, but at this rate, Louis thinks they might have to. 

He shuffles closer to Harry, still holding his hand tight and looks around in amazement. This isn’t like anything Louis has ever seen before. No, that’s not true, he has seen black's- and women's protests, but never his people and never this loud. 

“I need to find Bibi," he suddenly remembers. "I haven’t seen her since we were in there. Come with me?”

“Anywhere!” Harry answers as he clings on to Louis' hand like a lifeline. 

They don’t even make it four steps before Harry points in the direction of the club. Bibi is being hauled away by a tiny man in police uniform. “Bibi! Bibi! I'll come get you!" Louis shouts as loud as he can. 

“Don’t worry LouLou, baby! Bibi will be back, daaarlin’,” she says over her shoulder, sassy and confident as always. Before Louis has time to panic, Bibi breaks free and pushes the officer down in a blink of an eye. “Told you, honey, a no is a no. Treat me like a lady, and we'll get along so much better.” The man scrambles to his feet as she smiles suggestively and finishes with “And honey, blue is sooo not your color,” while she steps back to her Sisters.

As the cop climbs into a police car and starts speaking frantically into the radio, Harry exclaims "That was so cool!"

"Yeah, she's a groovy lady, my Bibi!" Louis smiles at his friend and the crowd cheers for Bibi's 'victory'. 

Louis has always been scared of the police. He had to be scared, it was almost the first thing he learned after he realized he was gay, but here, now, he feels empowered and strong. Invincible, he thinks. He feels invincible, and by the grip Harry has on his hand, he suspects Harry is experiencing something similar. 

As if Harry can sense this, he gives Louis' hand a tight squeeze. “Looks like we're in this together, right? You won't let go?” he sounds a lot younger now 

“I won't let go, daaarlin’, you’re with me tonight!” Louis’ eyes twinkle as he imitates Bibi's sultry voice. 

The crowd around them is getting rowdier, bigger, louder, and it's evident that the police are starting to lose what little control they have. The men in blue are shouting out commands but every command is drowned out by the mass of people that is gathering. Louis doesn't even know where they’re all coming from. He can see people using payphones, talking while gesticulating towards the street as if the person on the other side could see. It seems to be working, though; the gay community, who usually cowers away and seldom speak up, are out in the street fighting back and that's something neither side expected as an outcome of a simple club bust. 

Both sides know the power shift is most likely temporary, but for now, this street is the queer's to take.  
When the crowd starts moving toward the police instead of running from them, Louis just lets himself go with them, following the powerful stream of people. Up front, The Sisters have started an impromptu kick line and are singing “We are the Stonewall girls/ we wear our hair in curls/ we don't wear underwear/ we show our pubic hair” to the tune of Ta-ra-ra Boom-de-ay. The air is filled with something like hope, determination and freedom. It's a truly magnetic combination and smack in the middle, two young men have moment after moment of staring into each other's eyes and seeing something even more amazing. 

“Do you feel it?” Louis shouts to Harry as he jumps around as they join the mantras of “Gay Power” and “Gay is good!”. 

“Hell yes!" Harry shouts back "Look, I couldn’t even go in another direction if I wanted to, but how about trying to move to the edge. I’m not really fist-fighting material, if I'm being honest.” Harry laughs as they are pushed and pulled through the neighborhood.

“Ok, Mr Lover-not-a-fighter, let’s go!”

Louis uses his smaller stature to his advantage as he slips towards the edge of the mob, all Harry has to do is to hang on, and if there is something Harry knows, it's that he wants to hold on to Louis, he’s just not really clear on what’s drawing him so strongly. 

…

 

“Hey, Louis, bud, over here!” a man shouts as they reach the edge of the throng. 

“Rick, how’s it hanging?” Louis beams. “You here to write about us rebellious fairies?”

“Yup, or I don’t know. Was just around the corner and heard someone muttering that homophiles were causing a ruckus over here so I left my buddies to come and check it out. I just figured someone should cover it. Should’ve known you were involved somehow,” Rick laughs.

“That’s a false accusation if I ever heard one!” Louis counters. “I was just having a drink when some uninvited ‘guests’ decided to bust the party. This is Harry by the way. Harry, this is Rick, a co-worker of mine.” 

“Hi, man” Rick nods to Harry. “I didn’t know you had a beau, Tomlinson!”

“That’s because, a) I don’t, and b) even if I had, it’s not really a thing you tell people, now is it, Rick? Especially boring heterosexual folks like yourself.”

Louis feels Harry tensing up beside him and turns to him. “It’s ok, he knows my hmmm...disposition, don´t you, Ricky-boy?”

“Yes, unfortunately I’m well aware of your depraved lifestyle.” Rick answers, but the smile on his lips makes it clear that the words come from a place of banter and not malice. “Alright, get out of my hair now, I need to report on this madness,” Rick says as he pulls a pen and a pad out of his shoulder bag. 

Turning back to Harry, Louis asks, “You want to get out of here? I feel like running.” 

Harry lets out a laugh and nods. “Yeah, let’s run!” he shouts and takes off, Louis' hand still clasped safely in his. 

“Wait,” Louis pulls them to a stop. “I need to say goodbye to Bibi.” 

He runs back, not letting go of Harry as he dashes through the crowd. As soon as they find her, Louis pulls her in for a warm hug, kisses her cheek and looks her in straight in the eyes before saying, “You’ll take care, right?”

Bibi looks at her friend, then over to Harry and answers “You too, my little Loulou-Doll.” 

…

 

They run and run for blocks, jumping and screaming along the way. A sense of freedom and liberty fizzing in their veins, spurring them on.

“All right, all right, stop!” Harry's the first to give in and draw to a halt. 

“That was awesome!” Louis pants as they both take in their surroundings. They've stopped just outside a closed ice-cream parlor, the hot and muggy New York air heavy around them.

“I wish I could buy you a cone.” Louis says and for the first time, since those first seconds in the club, he lets go of Harry's hand with an apologetic smile on his face.

“Sorry, I know we probably shouldn’t hold hands out here.” Harry reflects, regretfully letting Louis' hand go. 

Louis shrugs his shoulders the tiniest bit “No, we shouldn’t. I’m sorry.” The thing is, letting Harry’s hand go is a lot more difficult than it probably should be. Harry has been his anchor for the last couple of hours, and even though their hands are sweaty and kind of gross, he still misses the larger hand holding onto his. 

Harry seems to sense Louis' emotions because what comes out of Harry's mouth is not the farewell Louis didn't even know he feared but, “I know a place we can go to, if you wanna? There’s no ice-cream, but it’s calm and we can talk, that is, if you want to?”

Louis lets the tension leave his body as it's being replaced with excitement, adrenaline coming back in full force. “Absolutely!” With a smile spreading on his face, Louis thinks about the possibilities of where a night that involved public hand holding will end. 

It's strange but it isn’t until now that Louis has really taken the time to look at Harry, and the feeling appears to be mutual because for what feels like an eternity they are just looking at each other. Harry is gorgeous with his long, curly hair and sinfully tight bell bottom jeans is looking at him so intensely that Louis almost starts fiddling with the hem of his t-shirt. There’s no denying that they are shamelessly checking eachother out. Louis does a little twirl and is a rewarded with an appreciative whistle as they both start laughing again. Where most hook-ups or relationships start with glances and flirting, this had started with a hand covering the other for comfort and some kind of magnetism had kept their hands tightly locked. 

When the moment breaks, Louis simply says “Lead the way, my curly haired prince,” in a soft voice and off they go, but at a much more comfortable pace. 

 

…

 

"I know it's not much," Harry says, self-consciousness clear on his face as he and Louis take in the little park Harry has lead them to.

“You know what, I don’t think tonight is about more or less, should or shouldn’t and if you don’t mind, I would very much like to hold your hand for as long as possible, even if it is a bit sweaty and borderline dangerous. Harry, lead me to your special place.” 

Reaching out, Harry takes Louis’ hand in his, smiles and lifts it up victoriously in the air.“You’re right. This isn't a night for fears. This is our night, right?” Harry replies, his voice soft but filled with carefully maintained hope. 

“What if it’s not just tonight though? I mean what if things really change? What if holding hands outside isn't a big deal?” Louis almost whispers, as if saying it out loud is putting too much hope into change and new times as they make themselves comfortable on a bench. Like before, they are holding on tight to the other's hand. In what Louis assumes is an attempt to share the feeling, Harry throws his arm around Louis' shoulders so their hands are now clasped over Louis' heart. They are so close that Louis can feel every little movement as Harry gets their positions just right. 

“You really think things could change? For real?” Harry's looking at Louis like he has the actual power to change the situation 

“If you’d asked me yesterday, I would have said yes, but a long long time from now. After tonight I feel differently. I feel strong and powerful not despite being gay, but because I’m gay. It’s something I don’t think I’ve ever felt before. Not this strong, anyway. My problem with being gay is that I always have to think about where I look, how I touch someone, who I’m smiling at and where my eyes wander. I didn’t feel that tonight, and I still don't feel it now.” He squeezes Harry’s hand and sighs peacefully.

After that it;s like the dam has broken and they both fire questions at each other at a rapid speed, like an intense game of ping pong, but with every serve comes the satisfaction of getting to know the other person. The basics are covered quickly: where they’re from, family, work, hobbies and friends. 

“So, are you out where you work?” Harry asks, referring to the encounter with Rick.

“No, not to the higher ups, but there was a lesbian working there when I started, so she gave me a heads up about who was cool with it and who not to tell. I've been lucky and most of my coworkers are decent about it. I kind of think it comes with the territory of reporting on horrible world events. Like maybe it isn’t such a big deal who you love when love always wins over hate. But on the other hand, there’s a whole lot of foul articles out there about our sort, so maybe it really is just down to luck." 

After Louis’ little rant Harry is giving him that intense stare again “What?” Louis wonders. “Did I say something wrong?”

“No, I just think that you’re natural charm has something to do with it as well. And those blue eyes can’t hurt either.” Harry muses.

"You're just all kinds of charming, aren't you?” he’s a bit flustered by this whole night so he gets on with what feels safe “Okay, my turn, can I ask you why you were on the streets like you said in the club? You don’t have to answer, of course,” he tags on quickly. 

Harry had been rubbing his thumb over Louis’ hand but tenses up at the question.

“Well...” he starts, “turns out it was really just me being stupid. You see, my mother found me in bed with a man and I panicked. I couldn’t imagine that she would ever want to see me again so I ran away. I was only out here for a like two weeks, and as much as I hated the things I saw; people being thrown out of their homes and being harassed just for loving "wrong", it lead me to decide what I wanted to do with my life.” Taking a deep breath he continues, “it breaks my heart that people think that love can be wrong. These kids are out on the streets just for loving who they love. So I want to study sociology and work with them, be someone who is fighting for them, and not against. They really don’t have anyone. This one kid, Bryant, he was homecoming king and captain of the football team, you know, did all the right things. Then his dad catches him embracing his childhood friend, who Bryant was terribly in love with, and his dad just threw him out. With nothing.” he seems to have told this story so many times, but appears to be highly affected by what he's seen. “He hitchhiked from Texas and sees a future with no love, no job and no friends except for the other street kids. I want to be there for kids like him. The kids who are taught that loving is wrong. That what feels right for them is so wrong that they don’t even deserve a home.” Harry shakes his head sadly “I was lucky, I went home to pick some things up and my mother caught me, and gave me a hug and asked me to please stay. I hate that I feel lucky for that, but I do.”

“It’s kind of the same with me and journalism,” Louis admits. “I may not be able to write the stories I want to today, but some day I will. I want to write about Bibi and her Sisters. They are so strong even with everything they go through and they have so much to give to society, but no one will listen to them. I want to write about homosexual weddings and children being brought up not to hate, but I have a feeling I will probably be an old man before that happens. A boy can dream though, right?” Louis asks as he turns his head to lean on Harry's shoulder. 

“You never know, maybe what started here tonight is our revolution. Maybe this is when things start to change.” Harry's smile is intimate and his eyes are as hopeful as his words.

“You know what, Harry, for tonight I will believe you. Maybe I’ll be deeply disappointed by dawn, but tonight is ours. We are the Rainbow Revolution. Hell, us sitting here like this,” he glanced at their clasped hands, “is an act of rebellion in itself,” he adds confidently. 

“I like our revolution,” Harry says quietly as he starts to gently rub his thumb over Louis’ hand again. 

After that the conversation turns lighter again, party memories, hook ups, lovers come and gone. It’s like they shared something personal just by being in the same place and witnessing the same thing and anything that will happen next will be okay, because right here, side by side in an empty New York park, Harry holds Louis hopes and dreams as Louis holds his. They both dream of a freer world, where a man holding hands with another man is not an act of rebellion, but purely done out of love or lust or anything in between.

“I don’t want this night to end, it feels magical. You feel magical,” Louis blurts out, “but we should probably get going,” he adds as he stands up from the bench.

“I kind of want to kiss you,” Louis continues, “but after what we’ve been through, tonight feels fragile. Is that stupid?”

“Not stupid at all. I don’t even know if I can explain what I’m feeling right now, other than good, so, so good. I feel good about what happened and I feel good about you.”

“Then, I will now escort you home, my lovely companion and protector.” Louis tells Harry as he drags him to his feet.

It's like Harry has the same sense of delicacy so he just nods and takes the lead. They roam the streets for a long time. The silence is somehow buzzing with calm, and that doesn't make any sense at all, but it's the only way Louis can describe it. As the world is at peace, so are Louis and Harry. 

Eventually Harry pulls to a stop outside a building and drags Louis out of his own thoughts.

“This is me then,” Harry says, and for the first time it feels awkward between them.

Louis, in a state of both exhaustion and exhilaration, bends forward and puts his lips just by Harry's ear. “I’m going to be down at The Stonewall again tomorrow. Meet me there. Let's see where this adventure ends.” He pulls away just a little bit and then places his lips carefully on Harry's cheek, just a quick and sweet peck.

Harry doesn't know if the adventure Louis is referring to is the riots or them, but he nods an affirmative. 

Louis takes enough time to make eye contact one last time, and then he turns around and starts sprinting away, laughing like a maniac.

All Harry can do is shake his head fondly and open the door to his apartment, carefully laying himself down and falling asleep with a smile on his lips.

 

** June 29, 1969 **

It’s funny, but as flaky as Harry can be, he's never considered himself a romantic. Last night had proven that to be false. Harry's a flirt, he knows that, and he's young, most people would probably call him cute or handsome. He knows how to work what he has and he likes to have fun, and fun for Harry often means sex. Sex with beautiful, strong, alluring men. His world had tilted a little bit last night. Just holding Louis' hand had him feeling butterflies in a way he hasn’t before, like the physical connection was more than just bodily fluids and need. Like sex was secondary to something bigger. Sure, he wants sex with Louis- the man is gorgeous- but that wasn't the only thing he wanted. He feels like he's had a peek at what something more could actually mean and this new world isn’t just about bodies and muscles, it's about belonging and feeling at home. Then there was the riots. It had been both enthralling and scary, but he his mind keeps going back to the aftermath. Sitting on that bench, just holding Louis, had left him feeling special in a way he never thought he would. Hasn’t dared to even hope for in a world where his love and desire are considered 'wrong'.

He wants to stay in his little bubble just a bit longer, so he lingers in bed even though it's already midday. He should be studying and probably clean his apartment, but the warm and fuzzy feeling feels worth ignoring responsibility for. So the hours pass, while Harry plays the night over and over again in his head, making sure to savor the memory of Louis' voice and his words. The feelings seems impossible to pin down, calm and chaos all rolled into one. 

The phone finally makes the decision for him as it starts ringing.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m up,” he sighs as he shuffles over to the phone by the door. 

“Hello?” Harry answers on a yawn. 

“Yeah, it’s me!” It’s his friend Nick on the other end of the line. He sounds excited, but that isn't exactly out of the ordinary; there’s always something that excites Nick. “Did you hear what happened at The Stonewall Inn yesterday?” Nick speaks way too fast for Harry's still dazed state. 

“Yup, I was there,” he pushes out, raking a hand through his tangled hair.

“You were? Right on! We’re going back tonight! The whole gang! You’re coming, right?” Nick keeps on babbling.

“Mmmhmmm, I’ll definitely be there,” Harry even nods his head for emphasis. “Believe me, nothing can keep me away." He's pretty sure Nick can hear him smile but he's in no mood to tell him about Louis. Not yet anyways, while he's still trying to figure his own emotions out. "But man, I need to study now.”

“Far out! Well, not to the studies but I'll see you tonight then! I need to call EVERYBODY!” Nick doesn't even wait for a goodbye before he hangs up.

After making himself a cup of coffee, Harry tries to get some studying done, he really does, but focusing is just too hard. He ends up sitting on his balcony, books forgotten in his lap, staring down at the street and the people milling around. It’s his world. It’s what he knows. He’s safe here, looking down at people, living their life freely. The thing is, even with the support of friends and family, Harry is used to hiding who he is. He's used to hiding who he looks at and who he lusts for outside the relative safety of a few places- his home, some bars, some friends’ homes and so on. Yesterday he was openly holding hands with a man. Out in the street like there was no shame or danger in it, the police hadn’t even felt like a threat. He isn’t used to it, but he thinks that he could absolutely come to be. Would love to get used to it. 

The hours seems to both fly by and drag on while he just sits there, trying to see if the world has changed. If it might become a little more his world. He doesn’t see any signs of an apocalypse so when darkness starts descending on the city, Harry takes a quick shower. He puts on his tightest bellbottoms as well as a t-shirt he never thought he would wear outside with the print “Gay is Good” in bright red. After seconds of deliberating with himself, he pulls on a shirt over it and buttoning it so the print is covered. He may be feeling free and a little bit wild right now, but he has no wish to get beaten up, and the New York City subway is not the best place for a one-man protest. 

 

…

 

Returning to Christopher street Harry can’t see Louis or Nick, but that’s not surprising because he's met with an ocean of people. For blocks and blocks all he can see are people chanting, singing, laughing, kissing and screaming, and Louis' words from last night hit him: these are his people. Here, he’s the normal one and he feels proud to be here, proud to be who he is. Most of all he feels pride that they are finally saying "no more" to the police and a society that has villainized them for so long. With liberation bubbling in his blood he cocks his hip, unbuttons his shirt and flips his hair as he sets out to find his friends and Louis. 

It takes him a while to wrestle his way through the crowd, but eventually he spots a red scarf sat on a brown haired head he recognizes. With the goal set for Bibi he picks the pace up and as he comes closer he see the The Sisters. If The Sisters were highly visible yesterday, they are in full glam mode today and their voices carry over the masses as they taunt the police with nicknames like “Lily Law", "Alice Blue Gown" and "Betty Badge". Still moving forward, he throws a worried glance at the police, but finds them completely passive. It's evident that they are still trying to project an image of being big, bad, macho men, but against this crowd in this mood, it's clear that they know they need to be cautious. 

Approaching The Sisters he spots Louis, and as much as he saw of the man yesterday, he stills for a second to take in how beautiful he is. His hair is wild and he looks sweaty and excited and Harry thinks he shines brighter than anything he's ever seen as his eye crinkle out of joy at something Bibi is telling him. He feels something he hasn’t felt often in his life, he feels possibility for a real relationship, and that’s crazy and scary, when they’ve only know each other for a couple of hours. He knows that, but right here, right now, with people who are fighting for the right to not have to lie, he can’t lie to himself. 

Zeroing in on the supernova of a man that is Louis, he shakes out of his daze and starts moving forward again but only makes it a few steps before he can feel a body tumbling into him. “What the hell!” he screams as he almost falls, flailing around while struggling to keep his balance. 

“Chill, dude!" It’s Nick, of course it’s Nick. "You made it!” He’s got this shine to his eyes and he’s clearly had some wine and Harry loves Nick, he really does, but he has a man to get to so he turns around, gives Nick a kiss and tells him. “I’ve got to see about a boy, be safe!”

“If you’re the one going to see about a boy, I think I should tell you the same!” Nick tells him, but he returns Harry’s kiss on the cheek and spins around. “GAY IS GOOD! COME ON, WHO’S WITH ME? SUCK MY HOMOPHILE DICK, YOU DAMN POLICE-PUSSIES!” he shouts at the crowd and Harry can almost feel the street move when they start their chanting, like they’ve set off an earthquake with their voices. 

Finding Louis again, he sees the man looking at him with a twinkle in his eyes as he waves him over. 

“You made it!” Louis screams over the commotion. He’s standing just behind The Sisters, still laughing with Bibi. 

“Said I would.” Harry answers in a tone much more intimate than he intended, and for a few seconds the world narrows in on just the two of them, together again. 

“Oh, honeys!" Bibi calls to the other women surrounding them. "Loulou’s boy is back again.” The Sister collectively throws Harry and Louis appreciative glances before they start _oohing_ and _aahing_ about young love and princes with curls. 

“I’m still a prince then” Harry teases.

Louis looks equal parts embarrassed and endeared by the attention as he shrugs his shoulders. “I guess I come with some baggage.”

“Did you hear that? He’s calling us baggage!” Bibi exclaims in faux outrage, she quickly adds a quieter, more intimate “You two lovebirds have a lovely, crazy and spectacular evening.” She kisses Louis’ forehead before she's completely submerged by her group.

“I might have talked about you, a very little bit,” Louis tells Harry

“Only a very little?” Harry knows he’s probably pushing it now. 

But Louis gives him a warm smile back “A very little bit. Now, let’s go and join the party!” He starts making his way through the crowd. Harry isn't really sure where they're going, but much like last night he feels like as long as it's with Louis, it will probably be okay. Or even more than okay, it will be fabulous and adventurous and what was the word Louis had used? Magical. It will be magical.

They’ve actually reopened The Stonewall, even though Harry has no idea how, since the last time he saw the place last night he's pretty sure it was on fire. Like literally on fire. But he guesses that’s what you get when the mob owns the place. Either way, The Stonewall is nowhere near big enough to cater to the masses of people so the party has spilled out to the street, and music is pumping while bottles of wine are being passed around. There's people everywhere and fueled by alcohol and ideology, spirits are high and the atmosphere is intoxicating in itself. Harry and Louis take the time to just weave around in the crowd. Shouting hellos to acquaintances, having sips of wine or beer and soon enough one hand sneaks into the other and the night feels electric. 

The hours move along and Harry feels like he's in love with the whole world as they find themselves with The Sisters once again. There's another charge in the air here. It seems like this close to the police, the aggression of the two groups is growing as some of the men in uniform look like they're starting to lose their patience. He even sees that a few people have already been arrested and once more they seem to be targeting lesbians and transsexuals. He glances to his side, where Louis has a worried pinch to his brow that wasn't there a few minutes ago. A little further back he sees a group of lesbians walking around topless with the police zooming in on them, and an idea strikes him. This time, Harry Styles in not going to stand idly by. 

"I'm so tired of us having to be so nice all the time! I don't want to play nice anymore!" he shouts, and rips his pants down to his knees to attract the attention of the policemen moving towards the bare-breasted brigade. "You want a piece of this, officer?" He wiggles his butt at them and just as he’s trying to get his pants back up, he feels strong hands on his shoulder.

“You’re coming with us. Indecent exposure on top of being a faggot. And you wonder why what you do is illegal?” a stern voice tells him as he’s struggling to get his pants up. Harry may be going to jail, but he'll be damned if he goes pantsless. 

“Hey, don’t touch him!” he hears Louis yell and he's about to tell Louis that it's okay when a big woman comes up and punches the cop restraining him, straight in the face. 

This is apparently as much as the police can tolerate, or they've just been waiting for someone to beat up, because it’s like a switch has been turned and they jump into action. They start dragging people along the ground and the large mass of people start spreading as the police take chase.

“Go on! Run, damn it!” She shouts and Harry, who finally has his pants back on, doesn’t need to be told twice.

He gets out a "Thank you!" as he’s about to takes off.

She starts to cackle “Male butts aren’t normally my thing, but that was epic, kiddo” She shouts as she get ready to run as well. 

The scene unravelling in front of him is chaotic, to say the least. The police are now going after anyone within reach and there are people everywhere running and shouting.  
Leading the way, Louis takes aim at a side street, pulling Harry along, and soon enough they find themselves in a small group being chased by police. It's evident that people are scared, of course they are. Their movements like fish being chased by a net; the pace is hurried and people are being pushed and pulled with no real sense of direction other than away from danger. But in numbers, there can also be strength. That becomes evident when a voice is heard over the stomping feet. “Why the hell are we running? It’s just two of them, LET’S GET 'EM!” And for the second time in 24 hours the tables turn against the police, and turns fast. The two police officers quickly realize how outnumbered they are and flee the maniacally shouting group.

“Harry, maybe this is the time when we get out of here and take on another park, yeah?” Louis says, looking a bit crazed but very very happy.

“Sounds good to me!” Harry answers without hesitation as they sneak into an alley. 

 

….

 

They end up in something that Harry isn’t even sure is a public park, but there’s a bench and grass, and he has Louis, so it’ll do. 

“This was your best idea all night! Even better than dropping your pants!” Louis laughs while taking a sip out of the bottle of wine they bought on their way there and are now sharing. "Nice penis too!" He giggles. 

"Hey, I was trying to protest! It wasn't to put on a show or anything!" He's aiming for grumpy, but if the way Louis is looking at him is any indication, he's not even close.

"Can't blame a guy for lookin', can ya?" Harry has a feeling Louis is missing the mark with his tone as well, because that should probably be teasing, but he just sounds endeared.

Much like the other night, the questions start, and don’t stop. With equal hunger they go after every bit of trivia the other one is willing to give. It’s like they are trying to catch up on knowledge so that the feelings can be matched with actual facts and not just a sense of knowing the other’s soul. Which sounds crazy, even to Harry, but he can’t help feeling like that’s what's happening when yet another questions pops into his head.

“Louis, how do you know Bibi and The Sisters?” he asks and when Louis gives him a little bit of a startled look he tracks on, “I mean, not in a bad way, I just haven’t seen many friendships between trannies and gay guys, you’re just friends right?”

“Well, first of all, they are not called trannies, Bibi is transsexual. She just feels wrong in her body,” he scolds, but there's a smile lighting his face when Harry blushes. 

“Secondly, yes, very much just friends. She’s got this mom/big sister act down to a tee. And as for how I know her, well, when I came to New York, I was scared shitless and it probably took me 6 months to even walk past a gay club. So, I passed The Stonewall every time I was out with friends or co-workers. I always made an excuse to pass by it and after another 2 months I decided it was time to actually go inside. I mean I’ve been cruising the parks since I moved here, but it felt bigger, scarier to go into a club for some reason. 

“Anyways, I was so nervous that I had a little too much liquid courage before I went. It's kind of strange that they even let me in, to be honest. Once I stumbled in, I had to give them my name, and I just stood there with my alcohol fogged brain and could only think of my actual name but when I started opening my mouth, someone slid up to me whispered 'Don’t use your real name, baby, you look like a Brando to me.' When I turned, there was Bibi. I gave the bouncer that as my alias and bought her a drink. That’s how the beautiful friendship between Bibi and Loulou started. She’s got my back, and I’ve got hers, even though that lady sure can fight her own battles,” he finishes, giggling fondly. 

“Brando, very manly!” Harry joins Louis’s giggles. “You want to know my alias?”

“Sure, my money is on Minnie Mouse” Louis says. 

“Close, or maybe not so close. It’s Snow White.” 

“Hmm… you wouldn’t be a Sister, would you?” Louis asks calmly.

“No, I just really liked the fairy tales and the pretty dresses the princesses wore. And the prince was always so handsome and perfect. And on top of that, I’m not really the most masculine guy, you know?”

Louis reaches out to gently caress Harry’s cheek, looking straight into his eyes. “I think you’re kind of perfect just the way you are." 

….

 

Somehow the hours escape them again. The wine is long gone and the New York night is as silent as it gets. As the sun starts painting the sky violet, Louis turns to Harry.

“So, Harry, may I treat you to breakfast? I know it’s not the most conventional first date, but considering how we met, maybe that’s just appropriate.”

“Sounds perfect to me. Will there be pancakes?”

“Anything you want! I’m buying.”

“Can’t really say no to that now, can I? Let’s go!”

As they stroll through the streets with the sun warming them up, Louis can't believe how easy and right this feels. He is overwhelmed by the feeling of security on a basic level, security that these budding feelings are given to someone who would care for them and him. The sense of belonging to someone that just grows stronger and stronger by the minute. 

“So, would you like to meet up and go together tomorrow? Or am I being too pushy now?” Louis asks as Harry tries to stifle a yawn

“I’d love that,” Harry answers honestly. "But I believe I was promised pancakes first."

"Oh, darling, I'll even throw in a piece of cake to if it means I get to spend more time with you"

As they eat their fill of toast, pancakes, eggs and cake, sleepiness catches up with them and the night ends much like the last. A quick kiss on the cheek, a separation, and two men falling into their own beds with smiling faces. This time with a set plan for their tomorrow, and with the hopes of many more tomorrows to come. 

 

**June 30, 1969**

Arriving together feels different, it feels real in a way that making vague plans and hoping to find each other hadn’t. 

With smiles on their lips and feelings warm enough to match the summer heat, they get to the neighborhood to discover that the crowd is even bigger today, and that it’s a lot more diverse. It’s not only gays, lesbians, drag queens and transsexuals. Today there are also street kids, gangs, supporters and social justice activists from different organizations. Louis thinks it looks like a beautiful rainbow of love, their colors vibrant and so strong. He knows for sure that he will fight to keep on holding Harry's hand in the street, and it warms his heart to know that these people are willing to fight for him too.

He’s so caught up in the feeling of belonging, feeling at home, that he flinches when someone taps his shoulder. Turning around, he's faced with a tall, mustached man.

“So, I think it’s time we officially met, I'm Nick!” the man says. 

"Nick!" Harry hollers as he gives the man a warm hug.

It takes Louis a second to remember Nick from all of Harry's stories. “Oh sorry, yes, I’m Louis, nice to meet you."

"So, what are you two crazy kids up to?"

"When are you going to realize I'm all grown up now, old man?" Harry answers, the banter an obvious indicator of how close the two of them are.

"You'll always be that young little twiggy boy I met all those years ago," Nick says, eyes twinkling. "But as much as I would love to gossip with the youth, my services are needed elsewhere." He waves a bottle of wine around. "I demand to see you two lovelies soon in a more private setting though! Have fun, kids! And you," he fixes Louis with a serious stare, "you better take care of your boy, he's very precious to me."

“Ummm.” Both Harry and Louis stammer in unison.

“Yeah yeah, I get it, no labels and that shit, still- take care little ones, I have some havoc to wreak!” And with that, Nick is swallowed by the crowd.

“So, you and he are…?” Louis ventures.

“Just friends, almost family. Our parents were friends to begin with and we met when I was just 16. He kind of took me under his big flamboyant wings, so to speak. He helped me figure out who I was and, in a way, he still does. Maybe not exactly who I am, but he’s kind of kept me sane a lot of times. Even when his advice has landed me in trouble, because he really is kind of nuts, he’s always been there for me and I don’t even know how to repay him. To be honest, I’m not even sure where I’d be without him in some ways.”

“Well, you’re friends, no need to repay is there?”

“No, but I sometimes wish I could to do more for him. His parents are really religious and tried sending him to aversion therapy so Nick ran away. I was only 17 at the time and I couldn’t bring him home to mom. Or I thought I couldn’t. That whole thing is why I thought I had to run away too. Turns out, my parent broke contact with them after that, and ever since, Nick comes over to my parents’ house a couple of times a month when he’s in need of some parental style TLC. I think my parents like him, but I also think they put up with him because they trust him to keep an eye on me in a world that feels so very far away for them.”

“So he really is like family to you?”

“Yeah, I guess. It's what we do, isn't it? We make our own families when the ones we have fail us or are unable to be here. You and me are a lot luckier than most.” 

"I know," Louis admits. "It's heartbreaking that your family not hating you is considered lucky. I was so obvious when I was young that I think my mom knew way before I did."

….

 

Anchored to each other, they spend the night just drifting with the crowd. Having a sip of wine with some people, a shot or two with others, dancing with a third group and getting riled up by a fourth. There is a feeling of unity, of solidarity and empowerment and it sets the whole street on fire. It's bizarre to think that something as serious as this can also be fun and Louis is again hit with the realization that in this tiny little corner of the world, he and Harry are the norm. A quick glance at Louis tells him that that he’s probably experiencing something similar. When the crowd starts singing We Shall Overcome, Harry moves to stand behind Louis and puts his arms around his chest, leaning his chin on Louis' left shoulder. 

“Is this okay?” he asks. 

“This right here, this is perfection!” The certainty is clear in Louis' voice and so as to make it even clearer, he leans back into Harry's embrace.

Louis feels safe and their position feels strangely intimate, even surrounded by hundreds, maybe even thousands, of screaming people. Every time Harry's breath hits the skin of his chin or neck he feels waves of this strange mix of explosive sexual tension and calm completeness rolling through his body. An impossible combination, but he really can't find another way to explain it. Swaying along with the singing voices, the night feels eternal, the goals feel obtainable and the possibilities seem endless. 

“Whatever comes after this, I feel like we’ve been part of something important. I feel like this is our revolution, our revolution of love.” Louis twists his head to tell Harry and with that, Harry gently puts his lips on his. It’s their first real kiss, and it’s out in public. It should feel monumental. It should feel like a big act of rebellion. It should feel huge. Those feelings are surely mixed in there somewhere, but most of all, it feels real. It feels good and it feels freeing. 

“I know sneaking away is becoming a pattern with us, but do you think we can leave the rioting to other people and get out of here?” Louis asks, and there’s a definite twinkle in his eye. “Maybe take me home?” 

Harry lifts his chin off Louis' shoulder enough to nod while holding him even closer “Yes, I think it’s time I take you home.” 

 

….

 

Hands linked, as they have been for three days now, they quickly set a course for Harry's home. The walk is quiet, in the best way possible. It's a calm and peaceful kind of quiet. The kind of silence shared by people at ease with each other. 

Harry makes quick work of leading Louis up the stairs of his building to his apartment. “Well, this is it,” he says as he waves his hands around. “I don’t think I can offer you very much in terms of refreshments, but I have juice, and probably a beer or two. And I have this,” he makes a grand gesture towards a small balcony. "I love sitting out there watching the streets."

“Do you mind if we stay inside?” Louis asks. “I feel like we’ve only been outside and it’s nice and quiet in here.” 

So they sit, Harry with his against his couch and Louis leaning on him. Snuggled up together they share a beer, passing it between them surrounded by silence after days of noise.

“It’s crazy,” Louis starts. “I’ve never felt trapped being gay. Not really, but the freedom I’ve felt these last couple of days have just been out of this world. We held hands and kissed on the street! Where anyone could see! Even with just the hand holding, it’s something I never thought I’d be able to do.” 

Pondering Louis' words, Harry speaks up. "Is this... Is this only you feeling free and caught up in this craziness?” Insecurity laces his voice. 

“No! No, darling, of course not,” Louis smiles and pecks Harry's cheek. “It's just, okay this is going to be the mushiest crap you've ever heard, but I kind of feel that there's something special with you. Or rather with us. As in you and me. I feel like this is something important. This is something big. Our big just happened to collide with something equally as big. Does that make sense?”

Harry doesn’t answer. Instead, he nuzzles into Louis neck, giving the sensitive skin there light brushes of his chin and lips like a cat rubbing his scent into him, and it makes Louis aware of how he smells. 

“I could use a shower,” he says, and realizes the implication straight away as Harry's breath hitches a little. “Slow down, lover-boy. I mean I stink,” he laughs. 

“Yeah, you kind of do,” Harry answers. He sounds almost unaffected. Almost. 

“Mind if I, as in me alone, take a shower?”

“Naah, go ahead. Should be some fresh towels in there and I’ll give you some clothes, if you want?” he adds cheekily. 

After Louis' shower, Harry jumps in for a quick scrub as well. When he gets out, it’s to find Louis snuggled under the covers of his bed.

“I hope you don’t mind, but I crawled into bed. I think all this rioting and wooing has broken me, I’m so tired.” 

“You look gorgeous,” is all Harry answers as he climbs, smiling, into bed. 

“I know we haven’t really done this the conventional way, but I would very much like to keep kissing you for a bit,” Louis says as he wiggles closer to Harry.

Harry closes the distance and kisses him, and kisses him and kisses him. It’s not hurried or desperate as most of their respective earlier hook ups have been. It’s like they are savoring each other and every touch. Knowing it’ll be the first of many to come and not just a way to get what you want and then run away. Neither of them have been spoiled by the feeling in that past and it feels monumental to just let the minutes pass, without rushing or a goal. When falling into bed feels natural. When you want it all, but you feel like you have a lifetime to cash in. 

For the third morning in a row both men fall to sleep with smiles on their faces, but this time, it’s sated and satisfied in each other’s arms.

 

**June 28, 2016**

“I, Louis William Tomlinson, take thee, Harry Edward Styles, to be my lawful wedded husband, to love and cherish, till death do us part.” 

“And I, Harry Edward Styles, takes thee, Louis William Tomlinson, to be my lawful wedded husband, to love and cherish, till death do us part.” 

The kiss sealing their union is tender and confident as always when the cheers erupt. One last peck and they both turn around to face their families.

“I told you I would be old before I got to write this story. And I definitely didn’t think it would be my story I would be telling all those years ago. Yet here we are, 47 years to the day our revolution started.” Louis’ voice is tender, for Harry's ears only.

“Yeah, you’re an old man now,” Harry teases, but the look he gives Louis is one of complete love and adoration. 

Louis can't help but reach over for one more kiss. When he pulls away he brushes the lapel of Harry's jacket. He and Harry hadn’t really planned on matching, they just chose to wear what they felt comfortable in, but the little floral scarf in Louis’ breast pocket just happens to match Harry's bright red shirt. The scarf is one of Bibi’s. It's the only thing Louis could keep when Bibi passed from AIDS in 1986 and it's one of his most prized possessions. Bibi's family hadn't been there for Bibi's death but had swooped in directly afterwards to claim the body and bury her with the name she hated. Louis wasn’t allowed to go to the funeral but he suspects Bibi knew that would happen when she left him the scarf only days before she passed. They had a service of their own, him, Harry, Nick and some of the people that were left. Those were some dark years, and Louis really shouldn’t be thinking about it on a day like this, so he shakes out of it after sending a quiet thought to Bibi, “You would have loved it, doll,” before he turns to Harry. His sweet, wonderful, Harry who always seems to be able to read Louis' thoughts. 

"Louis, you know she would have loved it, right? She would have loved what we did here today and what we've been doing our whole lives."

Through the years there have been battles won and battles lost. There have been more riots, more protests and actions. Louis and Harry have always been involved, always wanting to make a difference. The fight would continue for years to come, maybe generations, but right here, right now, they are winners. Not only because they’re standing next to each other holding hands but because they are standing united as husbands. 

They were surrounded by family, chosen and biological. Every single person here is family to Louis and Harry and as they dance their first dance, close together, Harry bends down to whisper, “We did it, babe, we went to a war of love and came out winners.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Oh, and I'm warriormum on tumblr!


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